You Won," Four Mutters. "stop." I Wipe

This Concept Could Easily Have Gone Awry. Stories About Love Tend To Go That Way Sometimes. They Wander Into The Realm Of Cheese And Never Return, Which I Think Is A Shame, Because There Is A Way To Write About Romantic Love Without Breaking Out The Velveeta.

Well, I Already Know What Happened To My Face", I Say. "i Was There. Sort Of

Little Girl, He Called Me. A Little Girl Who Is Stressed Out To The Point Of Paranoia. That Is Not Me, But Now, It's Who The Candor Think I Am.

Learning How To Think In The Midst Of Fear Is A Lesson That Everyone Needs To Learn.

The Cruelty Of Fate Is That I Must Travel With The People I Hate When The People I Love Are Dead Behind Me.